


Not a Chance

by LugianBeforeSwine



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AU where kiyohana haven't met yet, M/M, and also they are adults with jobs, drunk hanamiya is fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LugianBeforeSwine/pseuds/LugianBeforeSwine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“What I’m</i> saying,” <i>the man began exasperatedly, clapping a hand on Kiyoshi’s shoulder, “is that I could drown. Like. In your eyes.”</i></p>
<p>Because Kiyoshi is a good person, he stops to help a drunk man who has collapsed in the road. The drunk man is very bad at flirting, but he gets an A for effort in Kiyoshi's book.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Chance

Kiyoshi Teppei was a caring guy. It was how his mother had raised him and it was in his nature. He had often brought home stray cats, giving them food and a place to shelter themselves under the large deck in his family’s backyard. He frequently gave money to charities, his favorite of which helped children with disabilities learn to play sports. His coworkers always knew that they could count on him to help if they were behind schedule with their work. He was often described as having a big heart. That’s just the kind of person he was.

So when, after a long day at work, a drunk man crossed in front of the path Kiyoshi took to get home and collapsed in the middle of the street, Kiyoshi ran to help him without a second thought.

The inebriated stranger’s eyes were closed, and he was mumbling to himself as Kiyoshi knelt down next to him.

“Hey!” Kiyoshi shouted, shaking the man’s shoulder. “Get up! You’re in the middle of a road!” Kiyoshi had never been more thankful that he hadn’t been able to leave work until 2:30 in the morning. It meant that the road was pretty much deserted. “Hey, can you hear me?!”

The drunk man cracked one eye open. “Woah,” he slurred, then opened the other eye. “Who’re you?”

“Does it matter? Get up before you get run over!” Kiyoshi began to heft the man upright by his armpits with the intention of placing him on his feet, but it quickly became clear that the man was too jelly-legged to stand.

“For the love of—” Kiyoshi muttered to himself, before he lifted the man bodily off the ground and threw him over his shoulder.

“Holy shit!” the stranger shouted against Kiyoshi’s back. “You’re so strong. Holy shit.”

Kiyoshi ignored him and started in the direction of a community park, where he knew there would be plenty of benches. Luckily, the park was just around the corner and a little way down the street, and as soon as they arrived, Kiyoshi plopped the stranger down onto a bench, sitting next to him and trying to catch his breath. The man was heavier than he looked.

“So,” Kiyoshi began as the drunk man slumped in his seat and stared wide-eyed at him, “where do you live?”

“…in the ocean,” the man replied after a pause.

Kiyoshi frowned. Was the man so drunk that he couldn’t even discern what reality was? “The ocean?” Kiyoshi asked.

The man grinned. “In your eyes,” he said, as if that would explain everything.

Kiyoshi humored him with a small, albeit confused smile. “I’m pretty sure you don’t live there.”

“What I’m _saying_ ,” the man began exasperatedly, clapping a hand on Kiyoshi’s shoulder, “is that I could drown. Like. In your eyes.”

Kiyoshi narrowed his eyes. Was this guy flirting with him? If he was, he was doing a very poor job of it. “Okay,” Kiyoshi said, placating. “That’s nice. Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Makoto,” the man replied.

“Makoto. Okay. Do you have a surname?”

The drunk stranger whose name was apparently Makoto just gave him a vapid smile in return. Kiyoshi waited another few seconds for him to respond, and in those few seconds, Makoto’s gaze shifted from the approximate location of Kiyoshi’s eyes to his left arm. “Hey,” Makoto said suddenly. “Can I touch your biceps?”

Kiyoshi’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No,” he said quickly. Makoto’s gaze dropped to the ground, and he looked much sadder than he had any right to be.

Kiyoshi shook his head. This man was exasperating, even if he was actually kind of attractive. A slim, athletic build, dark hair and sparkling eyes, honestly probably a winning smile if he wasn’t quite so intoxicated…

Kiyoshi sighed. No point dwelling on those thoughts. The only thing he needed to think about was how to get Makoto home safely. “Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.

Makoto lifted his head, eyes still looking forlorn. “I did, but…” he began, then trailed off.

“But?” Kiyoshi prompted.

“But then, Imayoshi said ‘I bet you can’t balance your phone on your nose,’ and like, I knew I could, so I did, except it turned out that I actually couldn’t, and then it fell on the ground and some ugly dude stepped on it and it broke.” He sighed dramatically. “There were only ugly guys at the club tonight. Very unfortunate. But now…” As he stared up at Kiyoshi, a smile spread across his face. “I finally found a hot guy.”

Kiyoshi clapped a hand to his face, in part because he didn’t know what else he could do to find out where Makoto lived, and partly because, to his dismay, he knew his face was the slightest bit flushed. “Alright, listen. I’ll take you back to my place for tonight. Then in the morning when you’re sober, you can tell me where you live and I’ll help you get back there if I need to. Okay?”

Makoto appeared to be a little spaced out. He licked his lips slowly. “Yeah, okay,” he said.

“Good.” Kiyoshi stood and offered Makoto his hand. “Can you stand?”

Makoto snatched Kiyoshi’s hand and heaved himself off the bench, wobbling a little, but all in all appearing much more capable of basic motor function than he had been 20 minutes ago.

“Good job,” Kiyoshi said, keeping a firm grip on Makoto’s hand. “Now try walking.”

Makoto took a few tiny steps forward, then abruptly faceplanted into Kiyoshi’s chest. “Mmm,” he hummed, wrapping his free arm around Kiyoshi’s waist, “you smell nice.”

Kiyoshi strongly doubted that, given that he had just put in a good 16 hours at the office, but he took the compliment nonetheless. “I’m glad,” he said simply. “Could you try walking again?”

A grumble sounded from the general direction of Makoto’s face. He looked up, meeting Kiyoshi’s eyes. Then a smirk started to form on his lips. “I can walk,” he said airily, his grip around Kiyoshi’s waist tightening, “but only if you let me kiss you first.”

Kiyoshi couldn’t believe this man’s nerve. “Are you kidding me?” he asked, taken aback. He supposed he should have expected this, what with the continuous flirting, and if he was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t entirely _mind_ kissing this guy, but the point was—

“No,” Kiyoshi said firmly when Makoto began to whine, “you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s just get you to bed.”

Makoto’s gaze softened immediately. “Yeah,” he said dreamily, “your bed.”

As it turned out, Makoto could in fact walk, which Kiyoshi discovered after wrenching Makoto’s hands off of him and turning in the direction of his apartment.

“Waitwaitwait, wait, wait!” Makoto spluttered, reaching out and latching onto Kiyoshi’s hand. “You’re nervous. I get it. It’s okay. We can take it slow.”

“Yes,” Kiyoshi muttered, mostly to himself, “very, very slow.”

-

“Wow,” Makoto said as they finally got inside Kiyoshi’s apartment, “this is so nice.”

Kiyoshi eyed him warily. “Please don’t puke on anything,” he said as he walked to the kitchen. He filled up a cup with water from the tap. “Here,” he said, approaching Makoto, who was seated on the couch and apparently awe-struck by a photograph on Kiyoshi’s wall, “drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Makoto sneered at the cup of water. “What if I don’t wanna feel better?”

“Are you a child?” Kiyoshi grunted. “Drink the water.”

“On one condition.”

“I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Tell me your name.”

“Oh,” Kiyoshi said, surprised to realize that he actually hadn’t told this man his name, but he had offered him a place to sleep in his own apartment. “It’s Kiyoshi. Kiyoshi Teppei.”

“Teppei-chan,” Makoto said, smiling broadly. He held out his hand for the water. “Okay, I’ll drink this now.”

Kiyoshi sighed in relief, handing the cup to Makoto before plopping down next to him on the couch.

Makoto downed the cup in a matter of seconds. He reached out a slightly shaking arm to place the cup on the coffee table in front of him, then immediately sprawled out on the couch, his head coming to rest in Kiyoshi’s lap.

“Ugh,” Kiyoshi said. “I was just about to get you a pillow and blanket.”

“You can be my pillow,” Makoto said happily, “and you’re so warm, I won’t need a blanket.”

Kiyoshi sighed through his nose, but his right hand came up to card through Makoto’s hair. He hoped it would help the drunk man fall asleep, and then Kiyoshi could slip away from him as soon as possible. It was a good excuse.

Makoto hummed in obvious pleasure. “You have such long fingers, Teppei-chan.” He paused, then closed his eyes, his smile growing wider. “I wonder how they would feel wrapped around my di—”

In one fluid motion, Kiyoshi shoved Makoto off his lap and made a mad dash for his room, his face positively on fire. He slammed the door behind himself and leaned against it, breathing hard. He could hear Makoto whining in his living room, and realized that he should at least get him the promised pillow and blanket. After all, it would be rude not to.

Kiyoshi cracked the door open and peeked out. Nothing. He chanced it and opened the door a little wider. Suddenly there was a hand gripping his own. Makoto seized his chance and pushed the door all the way open.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, appearing to be not sorry at all, “I forgot you’re a delicate little flower. I was just kidding. Please,” he said, staring up at Kiyoshi through his lashes, “please don’t leave me alone.”

Kiyoshi stared down at his hand, held fast in Makoto’s smaller one, and then back up at Makoto’s pleading eyes. Whatever, he thought. As long as nothing happens. “Come in here,” he said at last, and Makoto practically bounded into the room, dragging Kiyoshi along with him.

Makoto had no qualms about sleeping in Kiyoshi’s bed; he flung himself onto it, letting go of Kiyoshi’s hand, and immediately burrowed under the covers.

Kiyoshi retrieved a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from a dresser drawer, and then began to leave the room. Suddenly, Makoto’s head popped up out of his cocoon of blankets.

“Are you changing?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Can I watch?”

“Not a chance,” Kiyoshi said, stepping into the hallway and closing his bedroom door.

When Kiyoshi managed to find a break in the mass of blankets that Makoto had tangled himself into in Kiyoshi’s absence, he slid under them and immediately Makoto’s body was pressed against his. Kiyoshi figured there wouldn’t be any harm in draping an arm over Makoto’s waist, so he allowed himself this one little gesture. Makoto smiled against his collarbone and pressed himself closer. He was asleep within minutes, and Kiyoshi followed soon after.

-

Kiyoshi awoke to the sight of a man staring curiously down at him, chin in his hand and elbow propped up on the mattress.

“Good morning,” Kiyoshi ventured after a moment, sitting up a little.

“Were you the guy that picked me up last night?” Makoto asked, stare fixed on Kiyoshi.

“Well,” Kiyoshi began, “I don’t know if ‘picked up’ is the correct term.”

“It is,” Makoto said. “You literally picked me up.”

“Huh,” Kiyoshi said. “I guess I did. So,” he added after a brief pause, “do you remember everything that happened?”

“I think so,” Makoto drawled lazily. “I remember trying to come onto you, and you continuously rejecting me.”

“You were drunk,” Kiyoshi said. “I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Well, you know what,” Makoto began, one edge of his lips curling up into a smirk, “I’m not drunk now. And you, miraculously, are still very attractive.”

“Ahh,” Kiyoshi said, beginning to see where this was going and unsure if he wanted to stop it or not, “thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” Makoto said sweetly. “Now…” He slid over Kiyoshi’s body until he was straddling his waist, and Kiyoshi involuntarily sucked in a gulp of air. “What should we do first?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a KnB pair that isn't MidoTaka so uhh. I hope I did alright. Hit me up at deadpan-snarker.tumblr.com if you'd like to chat.


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